


whenever i let my guard down

by whiplash



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Aaron Whump, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Medical Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Robert whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-23 18:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8338513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiplash/pseuds/whiplash
Summary: In the aftermath of the accident, Aaron's surprised to find that he's the strong one. (Or, Aaron might be the one who's a bit broken, but Robert's the one who actually breaks down.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know. This fandom doesn't really need yet another episode tag to the October 20th episode but, well, inspiration struck. Just consider it a slightly AU (Aaron hurts his leg rather than his liver), slightly more dragged-out version of canon with a bit more angst and hurt/comfort.

Everything hurts.

There’s something in his mouth. Something hard and _foreign_. He tries to scream. Ends up choking instead. He struggles, fighting blindly against unseen enemies. There are hands touching him, too many to count. He bucks and finds that he can’t move his legs right. There’s something heavy weighing them down. He’s trapped, trapped in the dark with hands grabbing him and _holding him down_. 

Sound penetrates the fog. He can hear alarms beeping and thrilling. Voices shouting. And something else. An animal noise. A loud, desperate keening. He fights harder. Needs to get away from all this madness. Needs to- 

Everything dims. The noise disappears again. Then the hurt does aswell. 

Aaron slips back down into darkness. 

xxx 

He fights his way back up to the surface. 

There’s something in his mouth. It presses down on his tongue, forcing his mouth open. He gags and drools, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He tries to move but finds that there’s something holding him down. No, not something. _Someone._ There are hands on him, forcing him down on the bed and there’s something in his mouth and he’s been here before, hasn’t he? 

This has all happened to him before and now it’s repeating itself and - 

“Aaron,” someone shouts. “Aaron, _please_ , calm down.” 

He knows that voice. He’s heard it before, at times like this. At times when the nightmares get bad and he can’t wake up by himself. That voice, it’s there to guide him away from the darkness. To take him back to a place where he’s safe. Where nothing bad can get to him, ever again. 

“Look at me,” the voice insists. “Aaron, please. Calm down and _look_ at me.” 

Aaron tries to speak only to find that he can’t. Panic scratches at his brain but he tries to keep hold of the promise that the voice offers. The promise that things will get better if Aaron just, somehow, manages to pry his eyes open. Aaron’s always been good at pushing himself but what the voice asks for, it seems Herculean. He pants through his nose. Ignores the pain. Finally, his eyes open. The light hurts and he blinks. Tries to make out the blurry shapes above him. Searches for one face in particular. Catches a glimpse of gold and turns towards it. Drinks in the sight, even though he can’t make out the details. 

“That’s right,” Robert says. “That’s good. Keep your eyes on me, love.” 

Aaron tries. He tries his very best. 

“Listen now,” Robert orders and Aaron listens, even as Robert's voice grows fainter and fainter. “You’re in the hospital. They had to intubate you. That’s why you can’t speak. But you’re gonna be fine, Aaron. You hear that? You’re gonna be-” 

Aaron slips away again. 

xxx 

Pain drags him back. 

He doesn’t know where he is, or what’s happened to him. Nothing makes sense. Nothing matters. Except for the fact that they’ve put his leg on fire. The pain, it rips through him. It tries to tear a scream from him but they’ve stuffed something down his throat. Filled up his mouth so that he can’t beg for help or mercy. Can’t beg them to stop the torture and just kill him. Aaron shakes. He cries. He ignores the hands that touch his face. The voices that get increasingly more loud and urgent. The light that shines into his eyes and the ceiling that moves above him as they roll him out of his room and down never-ending hallways. 

xxx 

His eyes won’t open. 

“I love you,” his mum says, her voice thick and shaky. “I love you so much.” 

_Love you too_ , he thinks. 

xxx 

“The funeral, it’s next week.” 

Whose funeral, he wonders. Who had died? 

“I don’t know what to do,” Adam continues. “I just don’t know what to do, mate. Except sit here. Sit here and wait for you to wake up.” 

His voice, it shakes with grief and hurt. Aaron wants to reach out, wants to wrap his arms around his friend and offer him comfort the only way he knows how. But he can’t even open his eyes. Doesn’t even have the strength to get his damned fingers to twitch. 

His thoughts, they drift to Jackson. 

xxx 

“She’s a real slapper, but Gabby says…“ 

Liv’s voice trails off into nothing. She stares at him and he stares right back. Doesn’t like what he sees. His little sister’s huddled up in a plastic chair, Robert’s jacket draped over her shoulders and her knees pulled up to her chest. She’s not been sleeping. And her eyes, they’re swollen and rimmed with red. 

There's something covering his mouth. An oxygen mask. He tugs it down, then licks at cracked lips.

“What’s wrong?” he croaks. 

Each word feels like broken glass against his raw throat. Liv keeps staring. Her eyes, they’re welling up with tears and Aaron, he can count the number of times he’s seen his baby sister cry on one hand. It scares him. Much more so than waking up in a hospital bed. What if something’s happened to his mum? Or to Robert? Or to his sister? She doesn't look hurt, but anything could be hidden away underneath the bulk of Robert’s jacket. 

“Liv,” he forces out. “What’s wrong?” 

She pushes to her feet, Robert’s jacket crumpling to the floor. Underneath it, she looks fine. No bandages. No blood or bruises. Just Liv, dressed in jeans and a grey t-shirt. She disappears out of sight and there’s the sound of a door opening. There’s Liv’s voice, calling for Chas. For a nurse. 

“He’s awake,” she’s saying. “He’s awake now!” 

xxx 

Aaron remembers the accident in bits and pieces. 

He’d been behind the wheel, with Lachlan stuffed in the boot of the car and Robert sat next to him in the front, shouting a proposal at him and shoving a ring in his face. Then... then Aaron had woken up in the water. He remembers the cold, most of all. That and the agony, lancing up his body from his trapped leg. It had stolen his breath away. He’d been drowning in pain, as much as in water. It hurts even to try and remember, so he lets it go. Lets the broken fragments slip away, at least for the moment. 

Chas and Liv, they fill in the gaps. They tell him that Robert had saved his life. Robert, for once, doesn’t say much at all. 

"You alright?" Aaron asks him and Robert nods.

"I'll be better when you're on your feet again," he adds, offering a lopsided grin as Aaron keeps staring at him. 

Next, Aaron asks about his leg. He remembers it burning, but can’t piece it together with the accident. They’d been under water. There hadn’t been any fires. 

It turns out that the bones in his lower leg had shattered in the accident. The doctors, they had put him back together with metal rods and glue made of ground-up bone. It’s Liv who tells him that part, her nose scrunched up in disgusted fascination. The surgery should have fixed him only, instead, the pressure inside the leg just kept rising. 

“That’s probably what you remember,” Chas says. “They say it's very painful. You couldn’t tell us, but…“ 

Her voice breaks. She rubs a hand over her eyes, smearing her mascara. 

“They took you in for a second surgery,” Robert fills in. “Something called a fasciotomy.” 

“It’s gross,” Liv helpfully adds. “Don't look.” 

Later, Aaron makes the nurses show him. He regrets it right away.


	2. Chapter 2

In hospitals, time always seems to pass differently than out in the real world.

Aaron sleeps a lot. Each time that he wakes up, he finds that more and more of the machinery around him has disappeared. He graduates from the oxygen mask to a nasal cannula. The damned thing makes the inside of his nose itch but going without it makes him feel breathless and panicky. Eventually, they stop giving him the good drugs, which is probably just as well. Things get a bit clearer afterwards. A bit less muddled. 

He wakes up one afternoon and realizes that it’s been a week since the accident. Yesterday, Chas had insisted that Liv went back to school. Aaron now insists that Chas goes back to work. Someone, he tells her with his cheekiest grin, has make sure that there’s still a pub waiting for him when he finally gets out of the hospital. She doesn’t buy it. Not really. But she still leaves, looking grey and exhausted under her brittle smile and perfect make-up. 

“The same goes for you,” he tells Robert. “Adam could do with the help, you know.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Robert agrees. He doesn’t move though and there’s a faraway look on his face. 

Aaron narrows his eyes. 

“You’ve been quiet the past few days,” he points out.

“Have I?” Robert asks, smiling a crooked little thing that doesn’t even begin to reach his eyes. He’s sitting stiffly in the visitor’s chair, hands tucked between his thighs and eyes staring stubbornly at Aaron’s left shoulder. This morning had been much the same, only then his hands had been wrapped around a cup of take-away coffee and his eyes had been locked on the small television screen hung up in the corner of the room. 

“Have I done something wrong?” Aaron forces himself to ask, even as he dreads the answer. 

He knows that there’s no excuse for how he’d freaked out in the water. He’d been no use at all, had he? Screaming. Crying. Losing control. His face burns with shame at the memory. And all that, it’s not even taking into account that he’d caused the accident in the first place. That he hadn’t been paying enough attention to the road. That he’d lost control of the car, driving them through that railing and into the water. 

“What?” Robert says. He’s finally looking straight at Aaron, a lost expression on his face. 

“I almost got you killed,” Aaron admits, his voice low and strained. At once, Robert shakes his head. He reaches out to grab hold of Aaron’s hand, squeezing it hard enough to cut off the circulation. It probably hurts, but it’s not the kind of pain that Aaron notices. It’s not the kind of pain that he minds. 

“I don’t,” Robert begins, only to fall quiet again. He clears his throat, then starts over; “I don’t blame you for any of that, Aaron. Please don’t think that.” 

“Then what is it? What’s wrong?” 

There’s no answer. No eye-contact. There’s just Robert’s fingers tangled with Aaron’s. They’re cold, he notices. A bit clammy even. Aaron frowns up at his boyfriend, trying to get a good look at him. Sees past the superficial cuts and bruises, and notices just how pale he looks. How dark the smudges under his eyes have turned. How greasy and limp he’s let his hair become. 

“You alright?” Aaron asks, even though he figures that he already knows the answer. Robert opens his mouth, then closes it again. Stares down at the floor, as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. 

“It’s not good to bottle things up,” Aaron reminds him lightly, even as he tightens his grip on Robert’s hand. He tries to fake a smile but he’s never been even half-good at that. Not like Robert, who can plaster on a mask and wear it for hours. For days, even. Aaron’s always hated that about him. Hated how easy Robert always makes it look. Now, for the first time, he realizes how the very same quality can work against his boyfriend. Can leave him hurting, on the inside, with no one around him any the wiser. 

He tugs at Robert’s hand. Hopes, at best, to get the other man to look at him again. Instead, he finds that Robert sways towards him. That he allows Aaron to pull him closer still, until Robert’s no longer sitting in the visitor’s chair but kneeling on the floor with his elbows resting on the mattress and his face’s hidden in the crook of Aaron’s neck. 

“Hey,” Aaron breathes, moving his free hand so that it presses between Robert’s shoulder blades. 

Robert shudders at the touch. Each breath he takes is hot and damp against Aaron’s neck. He’s not trembling, but Aaron still imagines that he can feel the restless energy humming under his skin. That maybe he can even hear the thoughts racing through Robert’s head. Aaron knows what that feels like, to be caught between the weight of exhaustion and the pull of agitation. 

“It’s alright,” he mutters, rubbing Robert’s back with slow and steady hands. “You’ll be alright.” 

There’s an unhappy sound, muffled by Aaron’s shoulder yet clearly disbelieving. 

“You will,” Aaron says, firmer this time. “Everything’s going to be alright. I’ve got you.” 

Robert’s shoulders begin to shake. He makes another sound. Harsher and wetter than before. It’s the sound of someone choking back tears. Aaron’s own eyes start to burn in sympathy and he turns his head so that he can press a kiss against Robert’s sweat-damp hair. He keeps talking, muttering nonsense as he holds on as tight as he can. 

Whatever he expects to happen next, it’s not for Robert to cling to him like he’s a drowning man and Aaron’s the only thing keeping him afloat. It’s not for Robert to crawl up in a hospital bed that’s nearly too narrow for one grown man and then somehow cram his six feet tall frame into the small space next to Aaron’s body. It’s not for Robert to start crying in earnest, snot and tears staining Aaron’s t-shirt. 

“I’ve got you,” Aaron says again, helpless and scared for Robert in a way that he’s never been before now. “It’s alright. You're gonna be alright. I love you.” 

“Shuddup,” Robert finally mutters. “Don’t say that.” 

His voice, it’s wrecked. Low and miserable. He shakes his head. Shifts, so that he no longer has his face buried against Aaron’s shoulder. His eyes, they’re puffy and his nose, it’s red. Aaron reaches out shaky fingers, wiping away the dampness from Robert’s face. 

“You said that before,” Robert adds. “Then you almost died.” 

He sounds resentful. Angry, almost. But it’s the kind of anger that Aaron knows best. The one which only serves to hide a deeper hurt. 

“You saved me,” he points out, keeping his own voice gentle. “You didn’t give up on me.” 

“I don’t think I know how to,” Robert admits.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Robert’s back to acting like his normal smirking and suave self.

At Aaron’s insistence, he goes home to shower and change into a crisp shirt. It’s not long before he’s back though, bantering with Chas and trying to boss Liv around. Aaron’s sister just rolls her eyes at him, poking the tip of her tongue out whenever Robert’s back’s turned. Aaron does his best to look stern, but he has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to keep from laughing. It’s not just out of solidary either. Now that the pain in his leg has started to subside, he’s finally properly noticing just how much his chest hurts. 

They tell him that he’s been lucky to escape internal bleeding. His liver’s bruised, but that’s not something that he can see from the outside. It’s hard however to miss the bruise from the seatbelt. It’s five different shades of ugly purple, peeking up from underneath his thin hospital gown and wrapping around his ribs. Which, of course, are bruised as well. Better than broken, they assure him, but his ribcage still hurts whenever he breathes too deeply. The pain, it has taught him to take shallow breaths. To not laugh or cough. To move slowly, if at all. Only, apparently, those are all the wrong things to do and now the nurses all keep reminding him to do his breathing exercises. 

“I’d rather be here with you,” Liv insists loudly, turning her teenage histrionics in Aaron’s direction. “Chas and Robert, they’ll both be working today, won't they? You shouldn’t be here all alone. What if something happens to you? One more day off school won’t matter.” 

Aaron wishes that he could convince himself that she’s just shamming. That she’s just using his hospital stay as a way to get out of school. That those were crocodile tears shimmering in her eyes. But it’s hard to do when he knows just how abandoned she feels. Robert and Chas, they might take care of her but he’s her family. Her family, but not her responsibility. She’s had enough of that with Sandra. He doesn’t want Liv to ever feel like she has to take care of him. 

“Now, you listen to me,” Chas begins, her voice sharp and uncompromising. And Aaron loves her, he really does, she’s his mum, but sometimes Liv needs a softer touch. Sometimes, he admits in the privacy of his own mind, he had needed a softer touch too. 

“Come here,” he tells his sister, holding out a hand. She grabs it eagerly and without hesitation, allowing him to tug her closer. She even perches down on the side of his bed. A year ago, they hadn’t known each other. Hell, half a year ago she’d sided with dad and called him a liar. 

“I’ll be fine,” he says now, squeezing her hand. “The nurses will look after me and I’ve got the telly to keep me company. And, to be honest, I could do with some more sleep.” 

“All you ever do is sleep,” Liv mutters. 

Rather than arguing – it’s not like she’s wrong, all he does do is sleep – he plays his trump card. 

“I might take a shower,” he tells her. “Don’t really need an audience for that.” 

As expected she makes a face. Robert’s quick to pick up on her change of mood and he leans over the bed to press his lips against Aaron’s in a quiet goodbye before ushering her outside to the car. Chas stays behind for a moment to gather her stuff. Even when she’s just there to for a quick visit, she still always seems to manage to scatter her belongings all over Aaron’s room. 

“Think I have it all now,” she says, wrapping the scarf around her neck and stuffing her phone in her pocket. There are shadows under her eyes again and he wishes he could make them go away. It’s hard not to feel guilty knowing that, once again, he’s the cause for her sleepless nights. Aaron reaches out, brushing his fingers against her wrist. 

“You gonna be alright?” he asks. 

The question earns him a kiss, her lips leaving behind a slick smear of lip gloss on his forehead. She fusses with his hair and smooths out the wrinkles in his pillow. 

“Mum,” he prompts, hating how his voice comes out anxious rather than stern. 

“Of course I’m not alright,” Chas finally answers. “I almost lost you.” 

The guilt grabs hold of him again, digging its rusty old claws into his insides. He keeps letting everyone down. Keeps missing how much everyone around him is hurting. First, Robert. Now, his mum. Aaron’s jerked away from the intrusive thoughts as Chas grabs his chin and tilts it up so that she’s looking straight into his eyes. 

“I will be fine,” she continues, her voice calm and firm. “It might take a few days, or even weeks, but I will be fine. So don’t you dare spend another minute worrying about your silly old mum, alright?” 

Aaron manages a smile as he watches her leave. 

“You’re not that silly,” he calls after her, his grin growing wider as he hears her offended yelp.


	4. Chapter 4

The day passes slowly.

He’s no longer in a single room, but the bed next to his has been empty since yesterday. It’s just as well, he imagines. The only thing worse than being stuck all alone in the hospital had to be being stuck in there with a talkative stranger. Aaron keeps the telly on, even though everything that’s on is meant for old geezers. Around noon they bring him lunch and soon after a young nurse comes by to show him how to inject himself with blood thinners. 

“You’re not scared of needles, are you?” she asks, smiling brightly. 

“Not really, no,” Aaron mutters, tugging up his gown and trying not to notice how her smile dims as she catches sight of his old scars. She collects herself quick enough, guiding his hand with a light touch as he pinches a bit of fat above his hip and digs in the needle. The tiny prick doesn’t even register and the smile’s back on her face as she straightens up again. 

“Well done,” she says. “Now, how about that shower, Mr. Dingle?” 

An auxiliary nurse, a grey-haired woman who reminds him of Lisa, helps him tape a plastic bag over the cast. Then she brings him his crutches and keeps an eagle eye on him as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed. His ribs hurt more than his leg and he’s wheezing before he’s even standing. The woman keeps close, but lets him do most of the work. As he staggers forward Aaron wonders if she’s meant to catch him if he falls. He sorta hopes not. If he falls on top of her, well, then she'll probably end up in a hospital bed of her own with a broken hip. He’d rather not have that on his conscience. 

There’s a chair waiting for him in the shower. With sweat beads trailing down his spine and his legs shaking underneath him, Aaron decides that he’s never been so bloody happy to see a piece of furniture before in his life. He sinks down on it, wincing as he bangs his cast against the sink. The crutches clutter to the ground and he winces again, this time at the sound. 

“Sorry,” he says, even though he’s not quite sure why he’s apologizing. 

“Nothing to be sorry about,” she assures him. “Now, I can either wait outside or-“ 

“Outside,” he interrupts her. The bathroom’s already started to feel too small for the two of them. 

Every part that follows is a struggle. From getting his clothes off, to turning on the tap and lifting his arms high enough to wash his hair. The hospital towels feel coarse, like sandpaper against bruised and swollen skin. The air stinks of hospital and his thoughts, they keep going to Jackson. Even after all these years, the unfairness of it makes him want to scream. 

When Aaron’s finally collapses back into his bed, he’s asleep within seconds. 

xxx 

He wakes to find that he has a visitor. 

The telly’s still on, although someone has muted the sound. Someone’s refilled the water glass on his bedside table too and the most likely suspect’s lounging in the visitor’s chair, working away on his laptop. Aaron studies his boyfriend, memorizing every perfect detail. The shadows cast by Robert’s eyelashes. The freckles scattered over his cheekbones. The crow’s feet in the corner of his eyes. All that could have been lost in the accident. Swallowed by that damned lake. 

Aaron shudders and gives up the pretense of sleeping. 

“How come you’re not at work?” he asks, wishing he could sit up or at least turn to his side. 

“Says the bloke who hasn’t shown up to work for the past week,” Robert easily counters, looking up from his screen with a crooked grin. “Besides, I'll have you know that I'm working right now.” 

“Says you. For all I know, you’re looking at porn again.” 

The blush spreads from Robert’s ears down his neck, disappearing underneath his collar. 

“That was Lachlan!” he hisses, twisting in his chair in an obvious attempt to make sure that no one's eavesdropping on them. The scandalized look on his face has Aaron first laughing, then grimacing as his ribs send sparks of pain up his spine. Squeezing his eyes shut he keeps his breathing shallow, barely letting his chest rise with each inhalation. 

“Serves you right for trying to rile me up,” he hears Robert mutter, even as a warm hand brushes against Aaron’s arm in the lightest of touches. Opening his eyes, he finds that Robert’s squatted down next to the bed, his eyebrows knitted together in a frown and his mouth turning down in the corners. 

“I’m alright,” Aaron assures him. “I just forgot about my ribs.” 

Robert doesn’t look convinced, but he sits back on his heels and gives Aaron a considering look. 

“Bet you forgot about your breathing exercises too,” he says. 

Aaron doesn’t bother denying it. He even lets Robert bully him into sitting up straight and doing them, taking deep stabbing breaths and exhaling slowly through pursed lips. Robert, the giant sap, stays by the side of the bed and breathes with him. It’s not the first time that Aaron has matched his breathing with Robert’s, letting his chest expand and fall with each breath as he allows himself to be anchored in a familiar pair of eyes. After they’re done, Robert struggles to get to his feet. His knees creak, the sound loud even over the constant whirr of the air conditioning, and he gives Aaron a warning look. Aaron doesn’t smirk though. Doesn’t call him _old man_ or anything like it. Just allows himself a stupid flood of warmth at the thought of the two of them growing old together. 

“Love you,” Aaron says. 

It still sounds strange. New, for all that it feels like he’s already loved the man a lifetime. At the words, Robert’s face softens. 

“Yeah,” he says. "Same here."

**Author's Note:**

> So, okay, I think it's complete now. Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please don't hesitate to leave a comment :)


End file.
